#2355

His shoulders were hunched, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, lips pursed in mulish misery. He was bundled up in more layers than Alex could count, but his nose and cheeks were still flushed pink in the chilly air.

"Too cold for your Spanish blood?" Alex said, elbowing Carlos good-naturedly as they wandered to their next interview.

"It's crazy, no? This weather." Carlos shivered and shook his head. "You had the right idea today." He freed one hand to tug at the sleeve of Alex's coat. It was one of the new team kit ones, thick and cozy and long enough to nearly reach Alex's knees.

"Did you not check the weather this morning?" Alex teased.

"I did!" Carlos said, eyes wide. He seemed upset by the perceived betrayal of his beloved weather app. "It did not say it would be this cold. I think there is more wind than expected."

Alex nodded sagely. "Of course, yeah. The wind."

Carlos gave him a Look.

"You joke, Albono," he said, digging his elbow into Alex's ribs. "But as soon as there is a hint of rain in the air, you will be right back on my side of the garage, asking for the advice of the shepherd."

"Oh my god you are so embarrassing." Alex laughed, dancing away just as Carlos tried to elbow him again, but Carlos was grinning, so he knew he was forgiven.

Their interview was apparently outside, cameras and microphones all set up in one of the picturesque pavilions in the back of the paddock. Carlos sighed as they got settled, quiet and resigned. He smiled good-naturedly when the interviewer apologized for keeping them out in the cold, but he showed no signs of discomfort during the interview, his answers as professional and thoughtful as always. Alex guessed that he was probably the only one who noticed the tension in Carlos's jaw, and the gradual way his shoulders rose up to his flushed ears.

Luckily, they weren't kept long, and they were walking back to the Williams hospitality a little more than a half hour later. Carlos blew on his hands, rubbing them together in front of his face.

"You think I am dramatic," he said, smirking sidelong at Alex.

"I think you're cold," Alex said. He glanced back at their press officers, trailing along behind them. They were engrossed in something on Dom's phone, and Owen wasn't filming them, his phone locked in his hand. Perfect.

Before Alex could overthink it, he shrugged out of his long coat and held it out to Carlos.

"Here," he said. He lifted his other hand, crooking his fingers. "I'll take your letterman jacket for the rest of the day. No one will even notice we swapped."

Carlos stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

"You don't have to—"

"You look miserable, Carlos," Alex said, "and we have at least three more things to film outside this afternoon. Take it." He shoved the coat into Carlos's shoulder.

This time it was Carlos's turn to glance behind them, and then he nodded, presumably also satisfied that they weren't currently being filmed.

"Okay," he said, and removed the letterman jacket, handing it over to Alex. Alex took it, and Carlos took the long padded coat, and they each slipped into the swapped jackets. Carlos let out a long, low breath as he burrowed into the fuzzy blue interior of Alex's padded jacket, zipping it all the way up to his chin. The coat looked even longer on Carlos's shorter frame, hitting below his knees. He shoved his hands into the pockets and gave a contented little shiver.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at Alex, and Alex's cheeks warmed.

"No problem," he said, huddling into the letterman jacket. It was still warm from Carlos's body heat, and it smelled like him, that same subtle, woody cologne that Alex recognized after more than a year of being around Carlos. Alex's thighs were a bit colder now, but he found he didn't really mind.

"Hey, did you two trade jackets?" Owen called from behind them.

"We did," Alex called back. "And it was super cute, and we're not doing it again just so you can film it."

"Menace," Owen grumbled, but his phone remained locked.

"Oh." Carlos's eyes were wide and delighted. Grinning, he pulled something out of the pocket of Alex's jacket: Alex's paddock pass.

Alex froze. "Don't you dare."

Carlos's eyes flicked past Alex, towards the pond behind the hospitalities, and for a second, Alex thought he might have to tackle his teammate in the middle of the paddock.

"Nah." Carlos slipped the pass back into his pocket, patting it gingerly. "I will keep it as a hostage. For later."

"I'm being bullied," Alex said. "I literally gave you the coat off my back, and you're bullying me."

"Only a little bit," Carlos said, pinching Alex's waist with a wink. With that, he sauntered off, hands in his pockets and chin tucked into Alex's jacket.

Alex blew out a fond, frustrated breath and followed him. There was a loud little part of his lizard brain that liked the image of Carlos in his jacket. Anyone else in the paddock would assume that the long navy coat was Carlos's, but Alex would know. In every video and photo of Carlos taken for the rest of the day, he'd be in Alex's jacket, and Alex in his.